


Take care of my research

by SmileyOnTheWall



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Dragons, Gen, Inspired by Fanart, Pre and Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 19:37:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmileyOnTheWall/pseuds/SmileyOnTheWall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the Fall, Sherlock've begun a new research, keeping it a secret to everyone. Besides, he didn't have time to finish it.</p>
<p>(See notes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take care of my research

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by a tumblr post.  
> http://kin-sei.tumblr.com/post/72125120737

"I don't have friends." 

"I wonder why." John finished their conversation and left him to sulk alone at the restaurant. 

He remained silent, probably didn't even notice when John left the seat beside him. Sherlock took a long time by the fireplace, slowly sipping his scotch and hopping for his normal self come back. By the time his hands stopped shaking, he managed to send a text to John, telling him to proceed the investigation with his client's therapst, and thought there's no need to say more at the moment. 

And then he left the restaurant. Wraping himself on his greatcoat and scarf, he decided to walk around the village, precisally close to the woods, no apparent motive. Let his thoughts fly away while walking in the dry leaves on the ground. Casually, stopped by a tree and, after a moment, he sat on the ground, leaning against the trunk. After long minutes, motionless, he heard a noise coming not too far, on the leaves; a small animal, judging by the sound. 

Not too long, the noise was repeated, this time Sherlock was sure that, whatever it was, it was getting closer to him. A sudden movement told him where it was, before it got still once again. Kneeling, he managed to remove the leaves above the creature and, when done, took a moment to observe what it was. It seemed to be a different kind of lizard, and by what he could see by the lack of light on the place, it was a species he'd never seen before. Carefully, Sherlock caught it on his hands and during some minutes, observed every detail on the animal, only stopping when his mobile buzzed with a text. He stood and begun to return to the village, taking the reptile with him, it was worth some research. 

Actually, his research took more time than expected, they came back to Baker Street before he could return the animal to the wood. Sherlock managed to keep it a secret, hiding it on his room in a way that neither John nor anybody could even know its existence during the time it stayed with him.

 

Some months after that, John found himself entering on the empty flat for the first time, just after visiting Sherlock's grave also for the first time. He sat on his armchair and for long minutes, that may or may not had turned into hours, with his elbows on knees and face on hands, thinking about his time with the detective. The silence on the flat was broken by a strange noise comming from Sherlock's room. 

Turning on the lights, the only thing John could find was a immaculate room. The sound was louder, and somehow, it was surprising familiar. The noise was comming from the wardrobe, and even hesitantly, John opened it. He needed to push some clothes (and some dubious things amongst them) just to finally find a cage. Putting the cage on the floor, he glanced at the animal for some moments. 

"What the hell are you?" John mumbled, still with a astonished glare in his face. 

The small lizard hissed to John for some times. It sat on its hindpaws and fixated its big amber-coloured eyes straight to him. Its body was covered by red shiny scales, and even looking like a lizard, its forepaws had what looked like wings. Once again, the little creature managed a roar. 

"So that noise was you. Thanks, now I feel terrible, I used to put the fault on Sherlock." He sat beside the cage, leaning into the closer dresser. A better look at the cage showed him a label.  


> _Research Subject - Not named  
>  Unknown species #Dartmoor_

"Poor thing, he was doing a research about you?" He took a deep breath. "Well, I guess this means he probably wrote everything about you. I just need to find it." 

John spend the next hours looking around the numerous notebooks on the room and looking through the archieves on Sherlock's laptop. Of course, he felt horrible about invading the space of his dead friend, but he needed to know what to do about the animal. After reading everything he found about the thing, John returned to the cage and kneeled on its front. 

"Well, I guess I know a bit about you already. Lets hope for the best, shall we?" Definitely he felt stupid talking with that creature, but he didn't have a lot of choice. Cautiously, he opened the cage, freeing the lizard. "Much better, isn't it?" 

The more the lizard walked out of the cage, the more it seemed afraid of John. Each time he tried reach it, the thing growled to him and flinched a bit. 

"Sorry mate, but you have to grow used to me." He tried once more touch the reptile, which bite his finger in return. "All right, no rush, I think..." Whipped his finger on the wool of his jumper. "Sherlock isn't here for you anymore," Sighed. "Neither for you nor me, it seems" The last bit came out almost a whisper. 

His only answer was a fire breath towards him before the lizard went back in the cage and in what looked like a den, made of dry leaves and dirt, covered with rocks. 

"Fine, then..." Certainly it wasn't between the notes he read. "So, not a lizard. All right. Dragon, perhaps?" The only thing left to him was to proceed his friend's research about that animal. Despites the warning coming from it, he pulled some of the rocks, showing inside the den. 

"Hey... don't worry..." Whispered. "Wait a sec... is it an egg?" Three eggs, actually. He replaced the rocks as soon as he heard one more growling for warning. "Female then... I think this facilites the things..." He stood and glared the cage one last time. "You don't need a name anyways. But for now, I'll call you Yolanda. No special motives, just to sound more familiar and less strange." 

Letting the open cage in the middle of the room, he left for some more data. As the days went by, ocasionaly Mrs. Hudson meet her too, with whom the dragon was more friendly than with John.Taking care of her helped him to go through his grief, making him feel useful also with the continuity with the only experiment Sherlock left that wasn't suspiciously dangerous. She never let him enter the room where the cage were, but he managed to feed her everytime the flew to him on the kitchen. As the time went by, his life became very domestic, in a way he never thought he would live again.

 

"What's wrong, Yolanda?" The dragon flew directly to his face, waking him in the middle of the night. John stared to her until she started to bite his nose. 

Sleeply, he went downstairs, Yolanda flying ahead him. Once again he stepped inside Sherlock's room, for the first time since the day he found the cage. A smile crossed his face when he saw that the eggs have hatched. The three of them, all in the same colours than Yolanda. 

With the time, all of them showed distinct personalities, and the only thing in common was their habit of sleep in the bed upstairs, precisaly all of them above John's body. Yolanda liked to spend time downstairs with Mrs. Hudson, only returning for food at nightime. For reasons unknown even for John, hispanic names suited them just fine. Paco loved to be close to John, joining him in everything he did, even waiting him to come back from the surgery, sitting by the door on the foyer downstairs. Pepito liked when the DI Lestrade decided to made them a visit, and actually they acted in a very similar way. 

The last one, named Benedito, acted in a too familiar way for John's tastes. He pocessed the black armchair and stayed looking at nowhere during hours in a row. Every time he was in a mood, he curled himself in a corner on the sofa, threatening with fire everyone who wanted to be closer to him. Didn't have a schelude to sleep nor eat, and frequently burned the wall for no reason (or as John says, Benedito burns the wall everytime he's bored.). But for some reason, he loved John's presence, and tried to be close to him whenever it was possible. Also, he hated everytime Mycroft made himself present at the flat and rolled his eyes when Lestrade talked about his time at Scotland Yard. Secretly, he was Paco's favourite.

 

It seemed a ordinary evening, John made tea and sat on his own armchair with his laptop, Paco e Pepito flaying around the flat, Yolanda making company to Mrs. Hudson, Benedito laying on the opposite armchair and looking straight to him. His notes about the dragons were interrupted by a noise on his door. 

"Mrs. Hudson, is that you?" John called, without taking his eyes off of his laptop. 

The noise came from the door once again, and, the same time if opened, Benedito jumped from the armchair and flew on its direction, caughting John's attention. 

"But what the hell is going on?" He finally looked at the door. "Oh fucking jesus..." 

On the doorframe, stood Sherlock with three angry dragons flying around him, and he simply didn't know what to say after seeing the hurt on John's face. 

"Uh... hello, John..." He saw Benedito threatening every one of his motions. "Would you mind to..." And then he was greeted with a flying tea mug. 

 

"So... you've found my experiment..." Sherlock said, sitting on the kitchen table, managing to stop a bleeding nose and taking care of a scratched cheekbone. 

"This is how you've called it? An experiment?" John said from his armchair on the sitting room, trying to avoid visual contact with Sherlock, even after listening a not too long talk about how and why he did faked his suicide. 

"Of course." He hissed when touched his nose again. "Didn't you?" 

"I named her. Yolanda, if you wanna know." 

"Yolanda?" Narrowed his eyes with the name, but didn't said anything about it. 

"And I proceed your research about her." John say as he opened a book.  


"Oh... thank you." When he finally could lower his head, he stood and went to the sitting room, finding Benedito at his armchair, growling at him. "John..." 

"Take the sofa. Benedito likes the armchair. I wouldn't make him mad." 

"Of course." Sherlock mumbled while walking towards the sofa. "This thing, with the latin names..." 

"Yolanda, Paco, Pepito and Benedito. You're called Sherlock and your brother is called Mycroft, I don't think you're allowed to say a word about this." John answered dryly. 

"Fine. You're right." He looked around. "May I stay here tonight?" 

"It's your flat too, if you can't remember." He closed the book with more force than necessary. "And try not to disturb the dragons." 

Thus, John headed to his room, accompanied by Paco and Pepito. Benedito took a last glare to Sherlock before fly upstairs, and seemed Yolanda would sleep with Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock stayed still on the sofa, thinking about what happenned. 

"You know, don't say anything for Paco, but Benedito has always been my favourite." John said on the doorframe in a low voice. "He makes me remember of someone, whom I missed the most on the last three years." 

Silence. 

"Actually, all them helped me through all this. But you two are just alike. It makes me happy, someway, but I'm still glad you're back." 

"I'm sure about it." Sherlock said with a sad face. "I am sorry." 

"Yeah..." For the first time that night, a smile played on his face. "Thank you." 

His only answer was a tiny, but sincer, smirk from Sherlock, and he didn't need more. He climbed back to his room and softly closed the room behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my first language, feel free to point at any mistakes.


End file.
